


It's not yours.

by asiramx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hunk (Voltron)-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asiramx/pseuds/asiramx
Summary: “I’m assuming this--” The Galran general dangles the bandana, “is special to you?” unbothered by the spectacle the Paladin caused.
Kudos: 8





	It's not yours.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope he makes it. Feeling pretty meh at it, sorry. But I hadn't written some time other than my other Voltron Fic. Needed some fresh air.  
> Will come back to fix some errors.

Hunk KNEW in some way the distress signal had to be a fake. Their tone didn’t sound distressed. More so, flat and direct. However, as a Paladin of Voltron. He had to check to see if this ‘planet’ needed any help. Needless to say, it was a trap.

The Yellow Paladin lurched forward on the controls. Alarms blared in the background, the cockpit turned dark, and warnings popped up on the screen. 

Getting it together, he tried moving the throttle to no avail. Did they use an EMP on the Lion? No. He would’ve heard a crash. 

His stomach churned; he recognized the tracker beam. A tool used by the Galra to capture any ships in their vicinity. 

“Guys?! Guys?! It’s a trap!” Hunk screamed over the coms, “The distress signal is a fake!” His pleading is met with static on the other end of the line. 

It felt like forever until the Galra penetrated his cockpit; they dragged him out by force and pressed the butt of the gun against his head. A gigantic figure comes into view, staring down at the Yellow Paladin with a sneer spread across his face.

“Well, well, I wasn’t expecting someone to respond to that distress signal.” The General laughs, resulting in the guard behind him laughing hysterically if it’s a harmless prank. 

“Set a course to Sendak. He is the nearest vessel.” Several of the soldiers exclaimed, “Vrepit-sa” before retreating to the control room.

“The Paladin, sir?” The guard prodded Hunk with his boot. Hunk flinched, glaring up at the guard only to be hit with the gun.

He yelped; which elicited another laugh from everyone.

“Strip him.”

The guards were not gentle, first his chest plate, secondly his plates from his arm and then finally, his leg plates. All tossed aside like garbage. 

“What’s this?” The General tugged the orange bandana around the Paladin’s head. Hunk struggled, borderline thrashing. 

He felt the bandana slip from his head, “NO!” Hunk snaps, he lunges towards the General. The Paladin is almost at the Galra’s reach until he heard a bang and a sharp pain shooting up his leg.

“I’m assuming this--” The Galran general dangles the bandana, “is special to you?” unbothered by the spectacle the Paladin caused.

“Give my bandana back!” Hunk cradled his bloodied leg, opting to ignore the intense pain coming from his wound.

“I’ll think I’ll keep it, as a trophy.” The General turns towards several of the guards standing by, “Take him to a secured cell.”

“Vrepit-sa!” They said. Hunk screamed at the General. The bandana is special to him. It reminded him of home. His family back on Earth. It’s the only thing Hunk had of them. Never unless he was sleeping, he’d taken the bandana off. 

The Bandana is something, his mother had given him when he went off the Garrison. _“Whenever you get homesick.”_ She said to him, _“It’ll help.”_

Not only did the Bandana remind him of his _aiga._ It reminded him of Samoa as a whole. Instead of the cold hard floor in a Galra vessel. He wanted nothing more than to let his feet sink in the sandy beaches, feel the fresh air blowing against his face. Playing with his cousin Sefina and Hawea, chasing them around until they grew tired. 

Instead, he’s here, far away from home. Sometimes he wanted to get up, take his lion and go home.

No, it would be selfish. 

He felt like his family was being ripped from him all over again. 

Hunk didn’t notice the cuffs being slapped onto his wrists, his eyes trained on the General who kept on flinging his bandana around like it was a plaything.

He’ll get it back. He swears on his life. 


End file.
